It’s been a few days since my last entry, and each one of those days is filled with weighted memories, but I needed some time, the last entry knocked the wind out of me.
Physically, emotionally and mentally.
I think the concept of how much our emotional pain affects our ability to function as a whole, is so often overlooked and under played.
Allowing myself to really feel through the emotions of that day, left me wanting to sleep for days. I probably should have, but instead I dragged my tired self through the days in a haze.
I convinced myself more than once, that I wasn’t going to do it again. Why would I put myself through feeling that, when it seems so much easier and less draining to just bury it.
Well, the haze has somewhat passed and the reality of what burying it does set in again, so here I am.
March 1 – March 5, 2009
The plane did land and a sea of heartbroken faces welcomed me.
I have since walked through those same doors at the airport a handful of times, and that image never fails to greet me there.
A sense of reality set in as I saw the gut wrenching pain in the eyes of each of my siblings.
I didn’t go home to make funeral plans for my momma and the sweet littles. No, not long after getting off that plane, I was sitting in a small cold room in front of a computer screen, with images flashing before me.
Words like grey matter, stroke, non-responsive, major damage, vegetable state and life support were all thrown at me like a knife to my heart.
‘You’ll need to make a decision soon’ ended that meeting.
I was so numb at that point, I can’t even put it into words; a state I am not sure the English language can depict.
I was still finding it hard to swallow through the fact that momma, Johnny, Neta and Tony were gone, and now I was supposed to think of ‘making a decision.’
They gave us a few more days. We needed to get home for the funeral of the other 4.
March 5, 2009
The funeral. Gosh I dislike funerals…. So, so, so much.
I grew up in a culture that believed in open caskets. Frick, I kid you not, I have seen everything under the blinking sun….. I won’t even get started on how I feel about viewings.
I saw momma for the first time at the funeral home, before the viewing.
Goodness I miss her. Hurts so bad.
I wish I could look back on that day and think, “we celebrated them well,” but that’s not the reality of funerals in that culture.
All the details of that day are not for me to share, for respect of others involved, but I can tell you this; according to my psychologist, a lot of my pain is not from the loss itself, but from the words spoken to me in that loss.
My heart remembers nothing but cold, gruesome, stark facts about that day.
After our final goodbyes, the dirt starting hitting the caskets and the wailing echoed far into the distance.
A piece of my heart was buried that day. Momma’s got it with her in heaven.
I picture the kids sitting on grandma’s lap, having some chocolate covered cookies. Sharing a few with Jesus of course.
I wish this was the end and rest awaited us in the following days. That was not the case.
Until next time,
P.S. For those of you that don’t know about my background. When the time is right I hope to write about what life was like growing up in ‘that culture.’ For now, this is all consuming.